The feeling of warmth was starting to spread through my body, pooling between my legs. More passages came to mind, mixing with the pain, anger and frustration. I should be panicking, something was clearly wrong with me but it just felt so good.

As the heat built between my legs, I grabbed the sink for support. That's when I saw the markings on the back of my hands. They looked like scales and as I watched, I could see them growing more visible. The skin around them paling to a grey colour. What is this?

I screwed my eyes shut and tried to block out the warmth. I had to stop, What if someone came through the door? I bit my lip to stop myself from moaning.

The warmth shifted and I could feel my chest pressing against my clothes. the shifting cloth sending sparks of electricity through my body. My clothes were starting to pinch and pull in places, the feeling only pushed me further.

My back twitched and I heard the sound of tearing cloth. I was nearing my limit, everything felt wrong but so good and the fire in my body was drowning out everything but the delicious feelings in my core that was edging ever closer. The world went white.

The release hit with all the force of a bomb and I struggled to stay standing, the sink was the only thing keeping me standing.

By the time I could think straight, I was still breathing heavily and everything felt different. My clothes were pinching me and I could feel a draft across my torso. Slowly, I opened my eyes and gasped at what I saw.

I'm huge!

The girl looking back at me was part Barbie doll, part fitness instructor with some lizard thrown in. I slowly moved my eyes downwards as I studied my reflection.

My skin was pale, bordering on grey but with a healthy shine. The colour made my now red eyes stand out and there was a glowing ring in each eye.

I had horns on the sides of my head. They curled forward and down so the point was level with my mouth. There were dark scales on my forehead, the same colour as my horns, that ran down the the bridge of my nose where they came to a point. I had more following the line of my jaw, touching my cheek and running down my neck.

When I brought my hand up to touch them, they felt smooth and soft, yielding like skin. there were more on my hands, starting just before my knuckles and running up my arms.

That brought my attention to the other changes. My figure had filled out drastically and I could see faint traces of muscle when I moved. My shirt and bra were nothing but rags, but it wasn't my chest that had destroyed them. It was my wings.

Bat-like and the same unnatural black colour my hair had gone, they didn't look big enough to hold my weight but I suspected I still fly anyway. Turning to look at them revealed another change. I had a tail!

It started at the base of my spine and reached to just past my calf's.

"Fuck!" I muttered. Even my voice was different, I sounded more like mum.

I lost track of time staring at myself in the mirror and the sound of shouting outside broke me out of my thoughts and kicked my brain into gear. I was standing topless in the middle of the school looking like something from a fantasy game! My blush nearly covered my entire torso.

I needed to get home, My pants were tight but they would survive. My hoodie was on the floor near my bag...-yea...not happening,— there was no way I was getting that on my wings and boobs.

Maybe If I covered my face I could just run for it? Get to the roof and see if I could fly? No one one recognise me... I gave myself another glance in the mirror before giving up on that idea.

My face had changed but not that much, I was still recognisable -even if no one would be looking at my face— Maybe I could...I tried moving my wings. Maybe they would be flexible enough for me to wrap them round my body. It would help I could look like— Whoa!

My wings stretched round my body, taking on a shadowy appearance as they did so. As they moved, my body shifted and I found myself look like I did this morning. I'm a shapeshifter?

This had potential. the only thing missing were my glasses. I frowned when I realised I hadn't even noticed their loss. I found them sitting in the sink and quickly put them back on. Thankfully, everything was just as clear with them as it now was without.

Could I make myself look like other people? I focused and my body shifted. Emma stared back at me from the mirror. A small part of me noted that I was now bigger than her. Emma smiled, now this had potential. I could even use this to get my book back.

I was just deciding on a plan when the door opened.

"Emma?" the girl asked, "I thought you were with Sophia?" She was one of the interchangeable people that followed Emma everywhere these days.

"Oh...um" I struggled to cover my surprise or even remember her name. In the end, I shrugged, "canteen food, what can you do?"

"Ugh, Tell me about it," she said as locked herself in one of the stalls.

Not wanting to hang around, I grabbed my bag and gave the stall a quick glance. I shifted back to normal and walked outside. I soon abandoned my plans to recover my book, there was a strong draft in the corridor and I realised that my shirt was only an illusion.

Blushing, I quickly made my way outside. I needed to get home. school shut for winter break after today, that gave me two weeks to find some new clothes and possibly tell Dad about this.

Not wanting to risk someone bumping into me on the bus I decided to jog home. Despite being mid-winter, I barely noticed the temperature.

I was barely halfway home when I realised something. I could shapeshift, I barely felt the cold and I wasn't even winded from the run. I had powers, I was a cape! I couldn't help but laugh.

Dad's truck was on the drive when I got home, the docks must have shut early for the holidays. I tried to not make too much noise when I opened the back door but Dad was sitting at the kitchen table with some paperwork.

He looked up as I came in, "Taylor, what are you doing home?" He said in surprise.

I quickly, racked my brain for an excuse but before I could, he frowned.

"Taylor, why are you wearing a glamor?"

* * *

1.2

"A-a glamour? I-I don't know what you mean, I'm fine!" I frantically tried to think of something to say. Dad could tell it was an illusion? Did that mean he could see me — topless?? Oh god!— Wait, why did he call it a glamor? Wasn't that a type of magic?

Did that mean my shapeshifting was magic and not a parahuman ability? Everyone knew magic was real. There were at least three magic users in the Protectorate but nobody knew how you went about learning it or why only some people could use it.

Dad stood up and walked towards me, I tried to back away but that would mean being back outside. He put a hand on my shoulder and I couldn't stop myself from flinching.

Realisation dawned and his expression shifted from concerned to surprised and finally a sad smile, "Oh Taylor, I'm so sorry. I never thought... wings?" I nodded and he sighed. He didn't hug me, thankfully, instead, he place both hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes.

"Go get dressed, I'll explain everything, I promise."

* * *

Getting dressed was easier said than done.

By the time I made it back to my room, I was starting to feel a growing pressure in my body, like a tensed muscle. It wasn't unbearable but i'm not sure how long that would last. Relaxing, my body immediately shifted back to my other state.

It looked like this was my `real' or default appearance and I couldn't just stay transformed forever. I peeled the remains of my clothes off and tried to find something that would fit the `new' me. I quickly realised I would need new tops, jeans, new everything in fact.

My hips were too full for any of my jeans and my underwear was uncomfortably tight, not to mention my tail made it impossible for me pull them all the way up, so I went without. A pair of baggy tracksuit bottoms at least fit me, though being without underwear just felt weird and I'd need to be carefully about bending over but what could I do for a top?

I pulled out a couple of tops from my closet to try on. The first was a simple T-shirt. I had some trouble getting it passed my horns but with some careful positioning I managed it. I then ran into another problem — or was that 4 problems? — at the back, the shirt was caught up where my wings joined my back. And at the front, I had no real hope of stretching the shirt over my chest.

I tried anyway, twisting and flattening my wings in different, and mostly uncomfortable, ways. Trying to force myself into the shirt taught me two things. One, my body was much more sensitive than it used to be and two, I was possibly stronger. A miss timed tug tore the shirt at the front.

With a sigh,I removed its remains. There was a blouse on my bed but just looking at it gave me visions of popping buttons so I picked up the tracksuit jacket. If I moved my wings just right I could get it on and it was baggy enough that I could get it closed up front.

A look in the mirror however showed that I was clearly not wearing a top or bra of any kind. I wasn't sure I could sit like that infront of my Dad, never mind actually go shopping. What's worse, trapping my wings was really uncomfortable.

I was debating taking a pair of scissors to the back of my largest shirt when there was a knock on my door.

"Hey kiddo, I've got some of your Mom's things out here if you need them," Dad called out, "I'll be in the living room when you're ready."

I waited until I heard him reach the bottom of the stairs before I opened my door and pulled the box inside. I know Dad meant well but I couldn't see any of Mom's clothes fitting me.

She wasn't too different from how I used to look, in fact, I was a good bit taller than Mom.

Still, with nothing to lose I opened the box. My jaw very nearly hit the floor.

The clothes inside were not what I expected. Mom was always dressed fairly conservatively, she was a college professor after all. I'd expected a box of her old shirts or sweaters but sitting on the very top of the box was a corset — a quarter of a corset anyway.— there was lace across the top, parts were nearly see through.

I didn't know much about corsets but I got the impression this was meant for bedroom. Blushing to my toes, I moved the corset to the side and tried to find something a little more suitable.

As I dug through the clothes, it dawned on me that most of it tended towards the victorian look. Everything tended to be black or purple, Mom's favorite colour, with lace and ruffles. There was even a purple half cape with a ragged bottom. A white corset with black stipping was carefully wrapped up with a long blue dress.

Thinking back, I couldn't remember seeing Mom in any of these. Maybe they were from her time at university or her time with Lustrum? Another thing I realised was, the sizes were all wrong, being much larger in the bust and hips than I remembered Mom was and and almost everything was backless or had a low cut on the back.

Eventually, I found a shirt that fit me. Getting it on, however, was not easy. My horns kept getting caught on the shirt and then I struggled to get them through the collar. My wings were actually the easiest part. Moving them was no harder than lifting an arm and felt completely natural.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I realised I was standing differently. I couldn't really feel the weight of my horns, but they were there and I was aware of them. The wings especially were throwing my balance. Turning my back to the mirror I lifted the back of my shirt and made my wings twitch. I could see the muscles on my back shift and move with them.

It was only as I shifted back to my old appearance I realised I could have done so first and then gotten dressed. Remembering that for next time, I made my way down stairs.

Dad had carried a number of boxes up stairs while I was getting dressed. He was just struggling with a large one when I arrived. I moved to help him and ended up lifting the box, almost effortlessly, out of his hands.

Dad chuckled at my expression and showed me where to put the box. There was a strong smell coming from the boxes but I couldn't for the life of me describe what it was. It was like trying to explain the taste of purple. I also noticed a strong whiff of whiskey, there was a small glass of it on the table.

Opening one of the boxes, Dad pulled out a framed picture and stared at it, lost in thought, "Can... Can you show me?" he asked hesitantly.

I couldn't look him in the face. Keeping my head down, I relaxed, letting my body shift back. As it did so, I was forced to move forward a bit on the sofa, my wings and tail were going to make sitting an issue.

Dad let out a gasp, I couldn't stop myself from looking up at him. I'd expected to see fear but instead, Dad had that same sad smile. He held out the picture to me, "You look just like her," he said quietly.

My jaw dropped when I saw the photo. It was clearly an old picture, taken on a rooftop or something near sunset but what shocked me was the woman. She looked a lot like me, our skin and hair looked similar in colour and I could see the dark scales on her face and hands. Her horns were slightly different. Mine pointed down near my mouth but hers curled up.

What really shocked me was her face, "...Mom?" I asked, looking to Dad who nodded.

"yeah, that's Annette, your mother as she really looked."

I could feel my body shaking. This was Mom? what, how? why did I never know? I struggled to get my thoughts in order, to form something coherent.

A hand landed on my shoulder and I realised it was Dad. He was muttering something as he ran a hand through my hair. Eventually, I calmed down enough to ask.

"Why?" Why what? I wasn't really sure where to start or what I wanted to know.

Dad gave me another sad smile and sat down in the armchair in front of me.

"Let me start from the beginning. You, Taylor, are my daughter and nothing will ever change that."

He waited for me to nod before he continued, "Your mother was what most people would call a succubus," I tried to protest but Dad held up a hand to stop me, "No, not the evil soul sucking demons you've probably read about."

"Their actual history is complicated but I think there is a book in this lot somewhere that can explain it better. For now, I'll try to keep things simple..."

Dad wasn't great at explaining things but from what I could understand, Reality was like a bubble with lots of smaller bubbles inside of it. These smaller bubbles were pocket dimensions and they often overlapped or leaked into each other and Earth sat in the middle like an anchor.